“Um…this is my friend Trace. Sorry, my other friend called him to tell him I was here—he didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I’m her boyfriend.” His smile is huge and affectionate. “The little scamp will deny it, of course, since we haven’t been on a date yet, but it’s inevitable.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Oh my god, he needs to tone it down a notch. “Now is not the time for your shenanigans.”
“Pfft. It’s always a good time for shenanigans, am I right, officers?” He shoots them a wink.
They’re speechless. I mean, what the hell are they supposed to say to that? To him? A god among mortal men, standing in their precinct.
“Ms. Westbrooke, if you wouldn’t mind having a seat so we can finish up here? Then you can be on your way.” They’re still staring at Trace.
“They called you Ms. Westbrooke—that’s so cute! You know what’s cuter? Hollis Wallace.” He pulls my chair back out, so I can sit, then pulls out the one next to it. “Holly Wolly.”
“If I threaten to murder him in front of you, does that lead to an automatic conviction?” I’m asking the officer in front of me. I can’t decide if she’s amused or not, but I’m certainly not, and he NEEDS TO GO. Away. Now.
“There she goes, role-playing the Lifetime Movie Network. Love it when she does that.” He presses a soft noogie to the top of my head.
My hand covers the seat, so he cannot sit. “You need to go,” I tell him.
“But I’m here.”
I roll my eyes. “No, Buzz—go back to work.”
He rolls his eyes back at me. “They can wait.”
They. The people. The fans. The team owners and investors. The millions of people watching from their homes, on television.
The entire statement, delivered so calmly, makes me laugh. Makes the female officer’s eyes widen—fortunately she doesn’t interject or ask questions because the last thing I need is someone encouraging his obstinate behavior.
The team can wait? A stadium filled with fifty thousand people can wait? Has he lost his damn mind?
“You can go. I’ll be fine.” I look to the officer. “I’m in good hands, trust me. You can call me when you’re done.”
Like we’re discussing him going back to work at an office. Or at a restaurant. Or as if he works retail. Yeah, sure, give me a shout when you’re off work! No big deal!
The reality: give me a shout when you’re done playing baseball in front of a crowd of nearly fifty thousand. A crowd that will generate millions upon millions of dollars in a single evening, with music and cheering and billionaires looking down on you from boxes in the sky.
Yeah. No big deal.
Go do that then give me a shout, but thanks for stopping by.
Once again, everyone is staring at us—more Buzz than me. I’m just some random girl who experienced an attempted robbery. All in a day’s work for the police, but it’s not every day a professional athlete comes busting through their doors, dressed in his complete uniform, straight from the stadium a few blocks up.
“How did you even get here so fast?” I can’t help asking.
“I took a cab.” Of course he did. “They’re everywhere around the stadium today—only had a little trouble getting through the fans who recognized me, but most of them just thought I was some freak dressed like me.”
Again. Super casual, no big deal.
He is really something else…
And growing on me with every passing second. My heart flutters and contracts. I hope I’m not watching him with doe eyes. Ugh.
He relents to my nudging, hesitating. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” His hand is on my shoulder now, because I’m sitting down, and he’s looking down at me like I’m looking up at him. “I feel horrible just leaving you here.”
He showed up, though, because he wanted to see that I was okay.
And I am.
In fact, I’ve never been more okay than I am tonight.
Me: Did Madison call you today by any chance?
Dad: She did.
Me: And did you hear about what happened…?
Dad: She mentioned something about you being robbed in the parking structure at your office.
Me: I half expected you to come walking into the police station.
Dad: There was a game today, Hollis—you know I cannot miss a home game.
Me: Right. You had to work. While I was in the police station because I was almost robbed.
Dad: But you were not.
Me: But I could have been.
Dad: Well I will say this, Hollis—if you were working for me, alongside your brother and sister, this wouldn’t have happened. We have secure parking at the stadium.
Me: I can’t believe you just said that.
Dad: Forgive me if I’m still—pardon the pun—a little steaming mad that one of my star players left the game before it even started to hold the hand of my grown daughter.